


Distractions

by RembrandtsWife



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Time, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 21:44:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3870802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/RembrandtsWife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan experiences some distractions during his morning meditation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

They're doing it again, Obi-Wan thought.

Every morning, as soon as he had washed and dressed, he  
returned to his room for meditation. The small round braided  
rug in the center of the floor served him well as a meditation  
mat; it was large enough for him to adopt a variety of  
postures, sitting, kneeling, or standing. This had been  
Obi-Wan's custom since he was a small child, an initiate in the  
creche, and it was his master's custom also; after meditation  
the two of them joined one another for breakfast and reviewed  
their schedules for the day.

It was not, however, the custom of Obi-Wan's new neighbors,  
whose bedroom shared a wall with his bedroom. The rest of the  
quarters in this wing were usually shared by masters and  
padawans; however, the quarters which backed up to theirs had  
recently been assigned to Bruck Chun, who was living apart from  
his master, and to his lover, Knight Flors Tonkin.

As far as Obi-Wan could tell, it was the custom of Bruck and  
Flors to have sex every morning. Loudly. At about the time he  
was accustomed to meditate. Just as he was sinking into a  
satisfying thought trance, his communion with the Force would  
be interrupted by a guttural moan. As he sought to regain his  
center, there would be a thump against the wall, and another,  
and another, and another. A distinct rhythm of loud thumps,  
punctuated by cries of, "Oh yeah!" and "Harder--unh--harder!"  
It was bad enough to be privy to the lovemaking (he supposed he  
should call it that) of his neighbors, but it was worse that he  
knew Bruck, at least, rather well, and had always found his  
accent annoying.

Every morning, without fail. And always loudly. Obi-Wan  
sighed. He had dallied with both male and female lovers, and he  
had never known a man to be as vocal during sex as Bruck Chun.  
Certainly he himself was rather quiet, though he enjoyed his  
pleasures as much as anyone. He was just going to have to try a  
more challenging meditation posture. He got up, removed his  
sash, tabard, and tunic, placed them neatly on the bed, and  
swiftly assumed a handstand in the midst of the braided rug. He  
pictured the word "serenity", written in the ancient  
calligraphy, and sank into meditation again.

"Oh, fuck!"

Obi-Wan's legs fell forward onto the bed. Obviously, this was  
not going to work.

He put on his outer garments again, made his bed, ran a comb  
through his hair, and re-wove his braid. Then he presented  
himself for breakfast.

Once again, his master had finished meditation before him and  
prepared their breakfast. This was, what, the tenth day in a  
row that he had done so? Obi-Wan felt slightly guilty, first,  
because Qui-Gon was undoubtedly rising earlier than he if he  
completed his meditation so far in advance of his padawan, and  
second because making breakfast was traditionally one of those  
services that the padawan performed for the master. Obi-Wan  
didn't enjoy cooking as much as he enjoyed, say, polishing his  
master's boots, but he was always happy to do his duty.

"Good morning, master. I apologize for being late."

A tiny smile. "Not at all, padawan. You will find that rising  
earlier becomes easier and easier with age. Please, help  
yourself."

Obi-Wan poured himself a small cup of tea and a small glass of  
juice, then heaped his plate with fresh fruit, a dollop of  
sweet cream, spiced protein patties, and a muffin. He felt  
quite hungry and ate without speaking for a few minutes,  
clearing his plate and re-filling his juice and tea.

Qui-Gon ate with his usual serene concentration, seeming  
undisturbed by his padawan's appetite. Over his second muffin  
with cream, Obi-Wan made bold to broach the subject of his  
difficulties.

"Master, I have been having a little problem of late."

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"I have been having great difficulty with my meditation in the  
mornings due to... an external stimulus."

One corner of his master's mouth went up. "Ah, you mean the  
amours of Knight Tonkin and Padawan Chun?" Obi-Wan's mouth fell  
open. "Don't forget, Obi-Wan, your bedroom and mine are side by  
side. I, also, share a wall with them, with their common room,  
I believe. They appear to be awfully fond of copulating on the  
couch in the late evening."

Obi-Wan said a naughty but colorful Corellian oath. "In the  
late evening? But they're doing it every morning in the bedroom  
when I'm trying to meditate! Where do they get the stamina?"

Qui-Gon actually smirked behind his large mug of tea.  
"Force-use has its advantages, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan licked the last of the sweet cream from his lips and  
wiped his hands and his mouth with a napkin. "Well, what do you  
do, master, when you're trying to meditate and  
their--noises--disturb you?"

"I masturbate, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan distinctly heard a soft "thunk" as his jaw hit the  
table. "M-m-masturbate, master?"

Qui-Gon cocked an eyebrow. "Have I neglected your education,  
padawan? I was under the impression that you are sexually  
active."

"Y-yes, master, but--"

"Surely you are aware of the benefits of self-pleasure, then?  
For the relief of stress and as a form of concentration?"

I'm going to shut up now, Obi-Wan thought. And then I'm going  
to pass out.

He shot to his feet and stumbled away from the table, nearly  
upsetting the pitcher of juice as he went. And then Qui-Gon was  
right in front of him, steadying him with a firm grip on his  
shoulders.

"Are you quite well, padawan?"

"Yes, master, I'm fine, master," just as soon as I reassemble  
my fractured mind.

A large hand cupped his chin. "Obi-Wan, did we not celebrate  
your third Rite of Passage some six months ago?"

"We did, master." The first Rite of Passage was at age seven,  
when an oblate became an initiate and started training. The  
second was at fourteen, confirming one's status as a padawan,  
and the third was at twenty-one, conferring the rank of senior  
padawan and legal adult throughout the Republic.

Qui-Gon's thumb brushed over the cleft in Obi-Wan's chin. "And  
are you not now entitled to form liaisons with other adults...  
of any rank whatsoever?"

Qui-Gon's eyes were extremely blue. He was smiling. Obi-Wan's  
eyes became extremely large. His mouth fell open. Qui-Gon  
kissed him.

The older man's lips were warm, his beard surprisingly soft,  
and his tongue skilled and agile. Obi-Wan twined his arms  
around his master's neck and returned the kiss  
enthusiastically.

"My room, master," he gasped when they broke for air. "My bed  
is smaller, but--"

"I quite understand, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan's fingers were trembling as he stripped. Qui-Gon  
seemed to shed all his clothes in one rippling shrug, as a  
serpent sheds its old skin. Naked, he seemed even larger and  
more imposing than ever. Perhaps the fact that his unaroused  
penis was larger than Obi-Wan's at full erection had something  
to do with that.

Obi-Wan found himself on his back on the bed, completely  
covered by a large, naked Jedi master. He wasn't quite sure how  
he'd gotten there, but it felt awfully good. Large warm hands  
held his wrists to the bed, not too forcefully; warm soft lips  
explored his mouth, his throat, his chest, lingering pleasantly  
over his nipples.

Is that _me_ whimpering? Obi-Wan wondered. I don't  
remember ever whimpering before. Teeth grazed one nipple,  
carefully, and he squeaked. No, _that_ couldn't have been  
me. Surely I don't squeak.

Someone howled as Qui-Gon's mouth closed over Obi-Wan's  
leaping erection. On consideration, Obi-Wan decided that it  
must have been himself, given that he was already pounding the  
bed with his fists. A mass of grey-brown hair spread over his  
belly, groin, and upper thighs somewhat obscured his vision,  
but he was nevertheless quite certain that his master, Qui-Gon  
Jinn, was performing fellatio on him with a hitherto  
unexperienced expertise. That was certainly sufficient reason  
to howl.

Obi-Wan writhed, howled, pounded the bed with his fists, and  
yelled like one tortured as his body erupted with orgasm. He  
opened his eyes, presently, to see Qui-Gon sitting back on his  
heels on the tiny bed, licking his moist lips with an  
undeniable look of smugness in his eyes. And his fully erect  
penis was quite impressive. No, it was downright awe-inspiring.

"Master...."

"Obi-Wan?"

"What about you?" He gestured feebly. He had seen starships  
smaller than that organ.

"With your permission, Obi-Wan, I should like to...." He  
glanced at the wall, then stretched himself out over his  
apprentice, mouth against the younger man's ear. "To fuck you  
until the headboard punches a hole in the wall."

To Obi-Wan's utter chagrin, his penis twitched. So did another  
part of his anatomy. "But, master, is it really possible...?"

"If you'd bothered to listen to the gossip, Obi-Wan, you would  
know that I have a reputation for being a very good lover. And  
that I have never injured a partner in any way, despite my  
size."

"I was always too busy with those linguistics courses, master.  
I never had time to have the usual crush on you and try to find  
out about your sex life."

Qui-Gon kissed his padawan. Obi-Wan rather liked the taste of  
himself in the older man's mouth. "That's quite all right,  
padawan. I've made up for it by having a terrific crush on  
you."

Obi-Wan grinned. "Really, master? In that case...." He made to  
turn over. Qui-Gon moved aside and let him.

"I am honored by your trust in me, padawan. And I am even more  
aroused than previously by the sight of your exquisite, er,  
physique."

Obi-Wan wriggled his physique appropriately. "I believe you  
will find some moisturizing lotion in my nightstand, master."

"Thank you for the tip, padawan."

Obi-Wan had achieved excellent control over his body through  
his communion with the Force. He now discovered that it was  
possible to achieve excellent control over someone else's body  
through communion with the Force. Muscles yielded and nerve  
endings rejoiced at the command of Qui-Gon Jinn, and in a very  
short period of time, Obi-Wan was quite thoroughly penetrated  
and ready to be fucked.

"Oh, master," he purred, as the first withdrawal and return  
glided over the sensitive spot within him. "Oh, master," he  
moaned, as Qui-Gon did it again. "Ooh, _master_ ," he  
cried, as a firm hand wrapped around his burgeoning erection.

"Master!" Obi-Wan yelled, as Qui-Gon thrust _hard_ and  
the headboard hit the wall. His throat hurt, but the rest of  
him felt lovely. Each masterful thrust produced a louder outcry  
of pleasure, drawn from deeper within him, until he threw back  
his head and screamed, his voice rising a full octave, as his  
second orgasm coincided with Qui-Gon's first.

Having his lover lying on his back was very pleasant... for  
about five minutes. Qui-Gon was heavy, and he was beginning to  
snore. "M'ster--I c'n't br'the--"

Qui-Gon pulled up onto his hands and knees with a snort, then  
delicately moved away. Obi-Wan instinctively rolled over toward  
the other man, and Qui-Gon welcomed him with open arms. The two  
of them dozed, Obi-Wan's head on his master's chest.

"I suppose we really ought to get to the practice hall,"  
Obi-Wan said at last.

"Indeed," said Qui-Gon.

Ten minutes later, Obi-Wan began to disengage from his  
master's embrace. "I'm getting up now, master."

"Yes, I am, too...."

Ten minutes after that, Obi-Wan took hold of one large  
foot--why had he never noticed how large those feet were?--and  
started trying to drag Qui-Gon off the bed. At this point  
Qui-Gon got up and excused himself.

They came later than usual to the practice hall, but they were  
both appropriately dignified and fully attired. No one was  
going to notice that the end of Obi-Wan's braid looked a  
trifle... chewed.

After warming up by sparring with one another, master and  
padawan separated, as usual, to solicit other partners. Obi-Wan  
turned around and came face to face with Bruck Chun.

Bruck saluted Obi-Wan with his saber. "Wanna do it with me,  
Kenobi?" His teeth flashed white in his broad brown face.

They fought a hot match full of dizzying leaps and turns.  
Obi-Wan was moving more aggressively than was his wont, yet he  
felt peaceful within, more in touch with the Living Force. He  
bested Bruck with a swift twirl of his wrist that sent the  
other padawan's lightsaber flying from his hand.

Bruck grinned, the tip of his tongue showing between his  
teeth. "Good work, Kenobi. I didn't know you had it in you."

"With any luck, I'll have it in me again tomorrow," said  
Obi-Wan.

*** end

 

  



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